


The New World

by aislingdoheanta



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-24 21:30:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1617731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aislingdoheanta/pseuds/aislingdoheanta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire is the owner of Enjolras who just so happened to run away.  </p><p>Set in a futuristic, dystopian society.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The New World

**Author's Note:**

> TW: There is mention of slavery/slaves. 
> 
> This was written in response to the Slavefic square for my trope bingo card.

Grantaire stood there waiting for the patrollers. He had gotten word from Javert a few hours ago saying they had located Enjolras and they were bringing him back. He wasn’t an idiot, regardless of what Enjolras said. He knew that this escape try was coming. Hell, it had been in the works from the minute he was enslaved.

He had just hoped to have had more time with him first. 

It wasn’t as though they had gotten off to a very good start. After all, Enjolras was technically his slave; he was bound to be resentful. Grantaire might have been if he had been in Enjolras’ place.

Though it didn’t take long for Grantaire to realize why Javert had asked Grantaire specifically to house Enjolras. Enjolras was rude, idealistic, and downright defiant.

Grantaire sort of loved him for it. It was so refreshing to have such fire, such passion near him. He hadn’t felt anything like it in years. Not since before he had given up his art. There wasn’t much beauty in the world anymore. Not since the Take Over.

It happened in what felt like overnight to Grantaire, but in reality had been in place for years. They had slowly started weeding out any opposition and then one day, there was a new leader in office and any who spoke against Them were captured.

They were a merciful people, as They consistently reminded the population. They merely brought the rebels and the law-breakers and eventually even the poor into a form of slavery. It was better than being dead after all.

There had been people Grantaire had known who had been captured and sold. People that he had grown to love and care about. But he hadn’t been able to let that show.

Grantaire hadn’t been able to let anything show. And he became a regular citizen going about his daily life in this New World. He didn’t cause any trouble and his only problem was drinking too much. But with no friends, family, or job, what else was he going to do?

And then Enjolras had arrived like a flaming arrow right into Grantaire’s soul. He had been sent to the most apathetic person Javert had known because They had been concerned that Enjolras would ensnare the other slaves into a useless revolt or enrage any owner. So they had sent him to Grantaire.

Even if Enjolras was like fire and passion personified, Grantaire could only see the destruction and ashes that remained. 

Enjolras believed that he could change the world; that the people could change the world together. That things could once again be all right. 

But Grantaire knew it was useless. Who would want to fight a system when majority of the people were fine? No one who was a part of society dared to go against Them because there wasn’t a reason to. And those who were below the societal mark didn’t have enough power or influence to do anything other than be sent to the other warehouses. 

It didn’t stop Grantaire from hating it, because he did. He hated that this so called “better world” had taken so many steps backward in, not only the equality of the people, but in the humane viewing and treatment of said people. It was disgusting and horrifying. 

That was, of course, what Enjolras had latched onto. He had tried for weeks to get Grantaire to fight with him. But every time Grantaire had a response.

_What do you expect to accomplish? They’ll kill you or worse before you could even begin._

_There’d be a mark on my back then and I wouldn’t be able to live at all._

_I’m only one man, Enjolras. One person cannot bring about change._

Of course Enjolras had retorts as well: “At least I’d die for something I believe in! I’d know my life was worth something, even if I fail. It only takes one person to light the match, Grantaire.” 

Normally Grantaire would just let him rant and rave until he either wore himself out or stormed off. They would never really see eye to eye on anything and Grantaire was okay with that. 

But now the fool had attempted escape, and Grantaire was afraid, terrified if he was being honest, with what They might do to Enjolras if They find him first. 

He saw Enjolras being dragged to him by two patrollers, but he couldn’t tell if the man was alive yet. Then the blonde head shot up, defiance and anger blazing in his eyes.

Grantaire hid a smile as he talked the patrollers into just leaving him to deal with Enjolras. Luckily, with Javert on his side, they were more than willing to trust that Grantaire would handle it.

“You’re lucky you belonged to this one. Otherwise we’d have shot you down during your little speech,” one patroller hissed as he shoved Enjolras to the ground.

Ever defiant, Enjolras stood and was ready to pounce. Grantaire grabbed his arm and pulled him back inside. Of course that meant that Grantaire was now the target of Enjolras’ anger.

“I am a human being. I belong to no one!” He nearly shouted as Grantaire grabbed the first aid kit.

“In this world, you do,” he responded simply. “And good thing otherwise they’d have killed you.”

“They should have!” Enjolras shouted. “My life would have been the sacrifice needed to get the people to fight!”

Grantaire shook his head. “It wouldn’t have done any good, Enjolras.”

“Then you should just let me go,” Enjolras begged, in a way that he had never talked before. “R, you don’t need to put up with me anymore. And if they catch me again, you can let them do what they will.”

“Oh, Apollo,” Grantaire whispered. “I’d do anything you’d ask of me, but that’s something I can’t do.”

Enjolras glared at him. “Why? You hate when I mention anything about change!” 

“Only because I know you won’t succeed,” Grantaire said. He didn’t tell him that the thought of Enjolras dying sent spikes through his heart.

“That’s because you don’t believe in anything,” Enjolras shot back.

“I believe in you,” Grantaire admitted softy.

It was silent for a few minutes, each man starting at the other, willing them to fall or break. Neither would.

“You expect that to change things?” Enjolras asked. “It doesn’t mean anything!”

“It does to me,” Grantaire argued. “You—you make me _want_ to believe in a free world, a better world.”

“But you don’t.”

“No,” Grantaire agreed. “But being with you, surrounded by your fire, seeing it burn. It makes me wish, more than anything that I _could_.” _For you_ , he added silently.

Enjolras stared at him as though seeing him for the first time. As uncomfortable it made him, Grantaire refused to look away.

“I will escape again,” Enjolras told him. 

“And you’ll get caught again,” Grantaire retorted. “We’ll end up right back here. Maybe we’ll even have the same conversation.”

Enjolras turned on his heel to storm to his room. He paused at the door. “Things _will_ change, Grantaire. I will make them.”

“I hope you do,” Grantaire called out, wondering if he heard hm. “If only to prove me wrong.”


End file.
